The Vulture Eye (Oneshot)
by PJOandHP4Life
Summary: (Prequel to the famous work of Edgar Allen Poe "A Tell-Tale Heart") This is describing the events that led to the old man getting his evil eye. It's not a happy tale, but it was fun to write and I'm pretty proud of it. I did this for school and made into a fanfiction. I was tired when I wrote this so don't too judge harshly. (Cover image by books-rome-weirdness on Tumblr I think.)


**This is a project I had to do for school and I decided to upload it as a fanfiction since it met the requirements. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: "The Tell-Tale Heart" is owned by the famous Edgar Allen Poe.**

True! -cursed- very, very dreadfully cursed I now am and shall ever be; but mad, no mad I am not. Why do you say so? I only have the fortune of a dead man, an undoubtedly dead man. I have such fortune that I can go to sleep only to wake to be harmed, dreadfully harmed. But not me, not my withered body; but my eye! My best eye mind you. How could this ever occur? I shall tell you.

It is impossible to tell what provoked this dangerous behavior. Tis' not I who irked this man to harm my eye. No, but the rum, the constant poison caused this anger. This irrational desire to harm me, my forsaken eye. Always drinking, drinking away misery, memories, I know not. Always came, always poisoned to the full. The bottles gave way to anger, tremendous anger; that of harsh horribly tremendous winds. Other times deep slumber, equivalent to silent death.

Some may fancy my tale mad or simply a dream. But I know the truth; for only _I_ and _him_ have seen the true horrors. I show no signs of the madness you speak of. Would a madman be able to recount from the mind every thought I processed? Every moment I felt and witnessed? I am old, quite old. The frail state I have grown to deprives me of any strength and lets me miss certain details, but fear heightens this.

Now this is the point. I had lived in a small house in a small neighborhood. I had but three rooms including the one I reside in at late. I never leave the bed for my legs are as twisted as a tree limb. Swollen red from efforts to walk or more wobble. I had need of a helper to assist me. The servant seemed well off but I soon saw the true soul and that lies were shed. He introduced himself as "Charlie Johnson." Every night when I was asleep in my worn bed he went out for the poison so desperately needed and came back showing its effects. For a week screams of sorrow and anger rang through the small house. And I soon knew death would await me.

The pained being soon started to watch me in his drunken state as though I was a hungry animal needed to be taken care of to rid the servant of his duties. But nothing came, only the stares. I was laying open my bed when it came, my dreaded misfortune. The servant just came back from a long trip out to satisfy an unquenchable pain. The front door swung shut violently sending tremors up my spine from the harsh vibrations. I heard loud crashing and grumbles and curses flung from this new presence. Then it stopped and it became eerily quiet within the house. In my bed I waited for the storm to finish and be over with but I heard nothing but my labored breath and shaken heart.

I waited for an hour at least. The slow ticking clock seemed to stand still at the dreaded midnight hour. But yet I still heard nothing. Then came the foot steps. Loud insistent footsteps that got louder and louder until they stopped completely.

Right at my chamber door.

I lay in my bed trying to reach slumber desperately. "It's a dream and nothing more."

Sadly the God above thought otherwise as the servant entered my chamber. Not once before had this occurred at night. The servant was kind during the day and dreadful at night, but _never_ entered my chamber before. I lay as still as a corpse for, that is what I feared I would soon become.

Then my heart quickened and I looked once at the man with my left eye. Suddenly the being struck as if my swift look had set the blood on fire. A scream escaped my lips as I was pinned. The eye that looked upon him was the left since a hand covered my mouth and right eye. The servant looked upon my eye frozen with fear and large with silent shock. My eye looked on as the servant look right at it nowhere else on my frightened withered face was noticed, just the eye.

As I gazed upon my captor I witnessed such anger never before seen by man. It was as if my unfortunate eye had caused the pain and misery that kept the servant at the salon each night drowning in rum. Then another hand came up to stab the eye when I let out another scream. One full of desperation for I did not want to be blind or to surely die.

My scream must have brought up fear in my captor of what, I do not know. Fear of being caught, fear of punishment I know not? Suddenly the knife came down but now at an angle. The eye was struck near the pupil but at the iris and across the skin surrounding the organ. The pain was unthinkable! I clutched at my eye as warm blood seeped through. It ran down my fingers permanently staining the floor. As I shrieked in pain my captor fled the chamber. Run, run they did. Out of the house to the streets before anyone could catch the culprit at the crime scene.

Soon neighbors must have fearfully went to the police in worry since I heard my front door once again swinging open to concerned men in uniform. At first I believed the violent servant returned and screamed for mercy. "Help!" I shouted in a wobbly voice. "Please rid me of my pain or leave me be!" The officers rushed into my chamber and discovered me on the floor with my hands and night gown soaked in blood.

"Poor fellow, that killer struck again," one police officer stated as the other lifted me up to take to a hospital hopefully. "This time he was lucky the culprit could have killed but fled due to his screams. Probably thought we would catch 'em I bet." I heard one of the officers carrying me state, "I heard from a neighbor that the man was here for a month waiting to strike. Must have been in desperate need of a cover to stay that long."

A month later I was out of the hospital with my eye recovered. It was now an ugly vulture eye with a dull blue film and a scar over the left of my face. I was taken to a new house that I would stay in for recovery. All of my belongings were moved to my new chambers. I have not yet met the owner but have heard he is respected in this town. As I entered the house my caretaker came to meet me. He was slightly familiar had the same facial features as the evil servant. He introduced himself, shaking my hand.

"Hello sir, I am Charles Johnson. I shall act as your caretaker for the next three months."

 **Dun, dun, dun! Cliffhanger! Well if you've read the Tell Tale Heart you should know what happens next. I hope you've enjoyed this I had fun writing it even though it was for school. Please review and tell me your thoughts!**


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